


A Brighter Light

by bizzybee



Series: Requests [9]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Time Skip, cw: pre timeskip lorenz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bizzybee/pseuds/bizzybee
Summary: Lorenz doesn't think anything of it when he finally transfers to the Blue Lions.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Series: Requests [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835620
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	A Brighter Light

**Author's Note:**

> This was requested by Finch! Thanks for commissioning!

Lorenz is the top student in his class. 

He attributes it to his noble upbringing, naturally. Why, he’s never been anything but the best when it comes to his education, so why should that stop now? He’s been schooled by nannies and private teachers from all corners of Fodlan. By their standards, the curriculum of the Academy is nothing. 

Of course, he doesn’t brag about it. To do so would be rather unbecoming, even if he would like nothing more than to toot his own horn about it a bit. 

Nevertheless, he will refrain. 

It’s not as though the others do not know about it anyway, he tells himself. Everyone knows that the great Lorenz Hellman Gloucester is intelligent, and handsome, and all manner of things that many of his peers are not. 

He’s not sure why exactly Ferdinand sent Professor Byleth to deliver a tea set to him, but he isn’t complaining in the slightest. It’s a beautiful cream, decorated with pink roses and a golden trim, so perfectly Lorenz’s style that he has half a mind to ask Ferdinand for the seller’s card. 

The Professor lingers, though, and Lorenz looks up, stepping away from his group of friends for a moment. “Yes, Professor?” 

They extend a form in their hand, which he takes, glancing over it. 

“Ah, the Blue Lions,” he says. “Transfer papers? Again?”

Byleth shrugs. 

It’s the second time they’ve asked since the start of the school year. Lorenz said no the first time, on instinct, but he's reconsidered it over the past months. 

For one, Byleth has made an effort to give him things, both gifts and items that he once thought he lost. For two, while Lorenz has never much minded the way that his classmates seem to hate him, he thinks he might like a place where he can get along with his peers. Of course, there will always be the fact that he is of noble birth that separates him from some of his classmates, but he merely means besides that. 

And what is life without a bit of risk? He is already at the top of his class in the Golden Deer, but perhaps he could do the same with the Blue Lions, and then perhaps again with the Black Eagles by the time the year ends. The thought amuses him, if anything. The idea of being the only triple valedictorian in the history of the Academy certainly has a nice ring to it. 

Perhaps that's why he changes his mind. Perhaps that's why he turns to the Professor and looks them straight in the eye. 

"I would love to join the Blue Lions." 

He's only regretted it about half the time since.

* * *

The Blue Lions are a bit of a proper bunch. Lorenz immediately senses the difference when he enters the classroom, both in the way Dimitri greets him and in the way the other students react. 

Of course, they all know each other already, if not by name then by face, but even so the warmth from his new classmates is refreshing. 

Of course, he and Sylvain have never gotten along, but he digresses. 

There's fast friendship to be found among the Lions, and Lorenz takes a particular liking to Annette, who he knows from choir, and Dedue, whose quiet manner calms the ever-racing thoughts in Lorenz's mind. 

He rises to the top of the grading scale soon enough. Annette is always willing to study, and most of the Blue Lions don’t take school very seriously, anyway. Lorenz is confident that the title of Triple-Valedictorian is in his grasp. 

Confident, that is, until he meets with the Professor to discuss his class standing. 

“I’m only second in the class?” 

The Professor nods. They shrug. 

“But, Professor, you must understand. I work and study very hard, and have never gotten below high marks on any exam. Who on the Goddess’s blessed land is more intelligent and steadfast than I am?” 

Professor Byleth purses their lips, averting their gaze. 

“Is it Annette? Sylvain?” 

The Professor shakes their head. 

“Dimitri? Mercedes? Ingrid?” 

Another shake.

“Who?” 

The Professor doesn’t respond. Lorenz turns, finally,  _ finally  _ following their gaze. Sitting at the back table, the perfect picture of innocence, gray hair mussed and lip between his teeth, is Ashe Ubert.

* * *

Lorenz can't help but watch Ashe during their next class. He's a quiet and friendly sort, keeping his head bent down over his work. He's not quite sure how to feel over the fact that his scores are being beat out by someone so unassuming. 

No, unassuming isn’t the right word for it. Ashe certainly can make his presence known. When he’s not trying, though, there’s a certain quality to him that makes your gaze simply pass him by.

It’s strange, though. Lorenz wonders where exactly Ashe studies. Lorenz often frequents the library if he’s not studying in his own rooms, and he has never once seen Ashe there. He could be studying in his room, but Lorenz is unsure how anyone on the lower levels would be able to concentrate with all the hustle and bustle around the Monastery grounds, even at night.

"You could just talk to him, y'know." 

Lorenz starts. Annette, pack slung over her shoulder, is leaning against his desk as the other students stream around her, leaving the classroom in pairs. 

“Ashe is a super nice guy,” Annette continues, eyes shining. “You should get to know him if you like him-”

“I do not like him,” Lorenz snaps, then softens, rolling up his parchment and sliding it into his bag. “Apologies, Annette. I should not have interrupted. It is the truth, however. If anything, I hold no strong opinion of him.” 

“Um, okay,” and Lorenz wants to insist, to explain away the disbelieving tone of Annette’s voice, “Well, it’s time for lunch, so hurry up. It’s saghert and cream today. I’m not gonna wait for you.” 

“Right,” Lorenz says, and dots off his quill hurriedly. “Give me just one moment.” 

“Fine. Hurry up.” 

“Say, Annette.” Lorenz looks up, clicking his tongue in realization. “If I did want to spend more time with Ashe after class, do you happen to know where I should look for the best chances of finding him?”

Annette grins. “So you  _ do  _ like him!” She places one finger on her chin, ignoring the way Lorenz blanches. “I’d say probably the greenhouses! I know him and Dedue like gardening a lot. Ashe knows, like, so much about plants. He’s really smart!”

“Splendid,” Lorenz says. “The Greenhouse it is, then.” 

“If you guys start courting you have to tell me!” Annette declares, then hugs Lorenz around the shoulders. 

Lorenz doesn’t bother correcting her about his intentions.

* * *

Lorenz thinks he can see the appeal of studying in the greenhouses when he enters it just after sunset. The natural light from the moon is somehow exemplified through the clear walls and ceiling, giving the entire room a silver hue. 

He spots Ashe easily. He's perched on a bench near the back, moonlight illuminating his gray hair and the pile of books beside him. 

He's not too sure what his objective is, finding Ashe like this. Find out how he studies? Observe him? All he knows is that he’s walking over to Ashe and not stopping. 

Ashe looks up when he gets closer, his footsteps echoing on the Greenhouse floor. “Oh! Lorenz! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here before.” 

Lorenz’s brow creases. “Others come out to study at night?” 

Ashe laughs, a pretty twinkling sound that makes Lorenz feel like he’s going to crawl out of his skin. “Not really. Mercedes and Dedue come out to garden sometimes, though. Bernadetta, too. It can be so busy here some nights, I barely get any studying done!” 

Lorenz smiles. "What are you working on?" 

"Nothing right now," Ashe says. "I'm just reading." He scoots down the bench. "Here, come sit." 

Lorenz hesitates. He’s not even studying? Then why is he even here? And why is he sitting down? 

“Have you ever read  _ Sword of Kyphon _ ?" Ashe asks as Lorenz sits, primly crossing his ankles. 

"I can't say I have." 

Ashe gasps.

Lorenz starts. “Is there some sort of… cultural significance to this novel that I am unaware of?’”

"Cultural significance?" Ashe repeats. He closes the book he was reading, handing it to Lorenz. "They're just stories, Lorenz." 

Lorenz stares down at the gilded golden cover, fingers tracing along the rough edges of the pages. 

"I didn't realize it was a series until I got to the Academy," Ashe continues, chuckling. "I've been falling a bit behind on my studying and catching up on them."

Lorenz hums in response. 

"I taught myself to read with the first one," Ashe says bashfully. "So you can imagine my excitement." 

Frankly, Lorenz can't. He's always known that Ashe enjoys reading just for the excitement of it, but he's always preferred other methods of employing his leisure time. 

"Anyway," Ashe continues, unfettered by Lorenz's silence. "If you enjoy reading, I just returned the first book to the library. It should still be there."

"Perhaps," Lorenz says, waving his hand noncommittally. He hands Ashe back the book. "You taught yourself how to read?"

"Yeah, back when I was first adopted with my siblings. By Lord Lonato. I forget you weren't in Blue Lions yet that month."

Lorenz looks up. Ashe stares down at the book in his lap, a small frown on his face. 

"Ah, right," Lorenz says. "It's not as though he was your father though, yes? So that must be at least some recompense."

He can practically hear Ashe flinch, and watches as his grip tightens around the book. 

"Oh, apologies," he says automatically. "That seemed to affect you more than I believed it would."

"I don’t appreciate that,” Ashe says. “He's my father. The only one I knew." 

"I only meant, as he was a noble, that might mean more that he brought you in than the fact that he was any sort of paternal figure."

"I don't really care about being a noble," says Ashe. "I'm not even one by name. I think we have different priorities, Lorenz."

Lorenz shuts his mouth. The silence is almost deafening, Ashe's words ringing in the empty greenhouse. He's not exactly sure what to say. He's never been good at this. He's never  _ needed  _ to be good at this, really. 

Ugh.

"Apologies," Lorenz finds himself stuttering. "I should not have-"

"It's alright." Ashe sighs. "I think I may just be tired." 

"Ah." 

"I should get to bed," Ashe continues. "I usually like to read in my room a bit before I go to sleep."

“Ah,” Lorenz says again, and he wonders for a moment if that’s all he’s capable of saying. "I could leave, if you would rather read here alone-"

Ashe shakes his head. "It's okay, Lorenz. I really should sleep." 

It isn't until he's left alone in the Greenhouse, the moonlight feeling more fractured than holy, that Lorenz realizes he forgot to ask Ashe about his studying.

* * *

In the end, Lorenz isn't the triple-valedictorian. 

In the end, it never really mattered. 

In the end, Lorenz goes back home without graduating, and prepares for war.

* * *

He doesn't see much combat in the next five years. Sure, there's routine sweeps of unsavory figures in Gloucester territory, but it's nothing quite as challenging as the missions he went on during his months in the Academy. 

Truthfully, he spends half a decade avoiding his father and reading up on politics. Who knows what the continent will look like once all this is over. Maybe he will have to lead the Alliance after all. 

He has little correspondence with his old classmates, both those from the Alliance and from the Kingdom. He considers reaching out to Claude, especially when the news that Dimitri has fallen reaches his ears. 

He knows his father would find out, though. Lorenz had even offered his help when his father seemed frustrated over one of Claude's movements, but had quickly been shut up. 

It doesn't matter, he supposes. His father is old. House Gloucester will be under his rule soon. 

Maybe that's why he doesn't refuse when his father tells him to take his place at the Great Bridge of Myrddin as the Kingdom Army advances. 

Of course, Lorenz had heard the rumors. That Dimitri is alive. That he's grown monstrous. 

He just isn't sure how someone like that could raise an army. 

His steed Cesario is nervous underneath him by the time he can hear the sounds of battle. He pats her neck, whispering soft reassurances even as he knows they may not come out of this alive. He wonders if, perhaps, Dimitri is up there alone, with the power of ten armies behind him as he single handedly tears through the Empire like a hot knife through margarine, reaching for Ladislava's throat and cutting off her cry for backup with a well-timed squeeze. 

Ladislava must not be dead yet, though, because that's her distinctive voice calling for backup. Lorenz gives Cesario a press of his heels and he surges forward, lance poised and at the ready. 

He was expecting the bloodshed, but he wasn’t expecting the rush of it, coming back into battle after so long without it. Bodies already litter the ground, and the first thing Lorenz makes out through the bright sunlight is Ladislava, lance crossing with someone he assumes to be Dimitri, although this Dimitri is much larger, blue cape hugging his shoulders, hair scraggly around his shoulders as tears freely fall from his eyes and growls are ripped from his throat. 

He didn’t come alone, like Lorenz had wondered, but joined by battalions of soldiers, pressing forward with a might that tells Lorenz this is a losing battle. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by an arrow whizzing past his head, landing with a thunk in the visor of the soldier next to him. 

Lorenz barely has time to watch his comrade fall from his horse before he hears it. 

“What the  _ fuck _ , Lorenz?” 

“Ingrid?” He wouldn’t believe it if he didn’t see it for himself. Ingrid on her pegasus, high above the throes of battle. Below her, on his steed, gray hair flat against his forehead, is Ashe Ubert. He lowers his bow when he sees Lorenz, his brow furrowing. 

“Yeah, Ingrid,” Ingrid spits out. She lands next to Ashe. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“It’s Gloucester territory,” he says. 

“Technically, it’s Empire territory,” Ashe chirps. “Unless this battle goes well.” 

Right, they’re at battle. Lorenz raises his lance, and immediately, Ingrid’s javelin is poised, an arrow notched in Ashe’s quiver. 

“Odds aren’t looking good for you, Lorenz,” Ashe says, and Lorenz hates to admit he’s probably right. He knows firsthand that Ingrid has quicker reflexes with a lance than he does; Ashe looks like he’s only been training harder since they parted ways five years ago. 

Lorenz reluctantly lowers his lance. 

“We have to kill you, you know,” Ingrid says. 

“You don’t sound too saddened by that,” says Lorenz. 

Ingrid shrugs. 

“Why didn’t you come back to the monastery?” Ashe asks. 

Lorenz is beginning to think this is more than a little bit ridiculous, the three of them having this conversation with the sounds of fighting and death and Dimitri’s cruel laughter in the background.

“You two went back to the monastery?” he says instead. 

They both nod. 

“Lorenz…” Ashe says, and trails off. 

Lorenz swallows. He knows he had an awful knack of hurting Ashe’s feelings back in the day, and he, for one, wouldn’t blame Ashe if he were to nock an arrow and get rid of the liability he’s sure they think he is.

Ingrid turns to Ashe. “We should just kill him. Get it over with.” 

Frankly, Lorenz thinks, he could probably make a quick escape while they bicker over it, but part of him wants to see how this plays out. The other part knows that Ashe would have an arrow in his back the moment he tried to move. 

“I can hear you, you know.” 

Ingrid rolls her eyes. 

Ashe gives Ingrid a pointed look, then turns back to Lorenz. “You could come back to the monastery, if you want.” 

“I don’t think Dimitri-” 

“Ingrid,” Ashe says gently. “I don’t think His Highness is going to notice.” 

Ingrid glances to the side, as though she can see Dimitri in her mind’s eye. 

“So?” Ashe asks.

Lorenz considers, shifting on top of Cesario. He knows he shouldn’t, knows his father would never forgive him, but-

“Come on, Lorenz,” Ashe says. “I know you’re still the same stubborn person you were five years ago, but-” 

“I’m not the same,” Lorenz protests, which seems to only prove Ashe’s point. “I’m just… thinking.” 

“Could you hurry it up?” Ingrid asks. “I still have no qualms killing you.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Lorenz says. “I’ll join your cause. Not as a prisoner of war. As a soldier.” 

“We’re to the west of the bridge,” Ashe says. “Ferdinand and Mercedes will let you in.” 

Frankly, Lorenz isn’t too sure about that, as last time he saw Mercedes she was rather angry with him. “Alright,” he says, and begins to retreat with Cesario. 

“If you betray us, I’ll kill you myself,” Ingrid warns. 

Lorenz just barely hears Ashe’s response as he disappears back into the parapets. 

“Ingrid, he’s too smart for that.”

* * *

Ferdinand, for one, is excited to see Lorenz, clapping him on the back and taking Cesario’s reins from him so he can get situated and join Mercedes in setting up an injuries tent for the wounded. 

Sooner than he was expecting, the sounds of matching feet approach. Mercedes gives him a stern frown, then pins back the tent flaps to let the soldiers in. 

Lorenz knows he's been away from combat for too long when the sight and smell of blood immediately threatens to become overwhelming. He squares his shoulders, though, acting as a triage for Mercedes as he directs people to different areas of the tent depending on how much care they need. 

He takes a breath outside after the injured are situated, leaning against the tent and forcing himself to breathe until Mercedes calls him back in. He can hear Dimitri bellowing in rage in the Captain’s tent, and hopes to the Goddess that at least he’s not alone.

He heals more soldiers than he can count, following Mercedes’ orders as he wraps bandages, seals wounds, and gets covered in more blood than he’s ever seen in one sitting. 

He ends up in an area with several of his former classmates that sustained moderate injuries, healing concussions, sprained wrists, and broken fingers. 

Ashe sits on his cot, a sheepish smile on his face, even as dried blood coats one side of his head. 

“Hey, Lorenz,” he says, brushing a lock of hair out of his face. “Happy to be back in the thick of it, huh?”

Lorenz chuckles, summoning a healing spell as he reaches forward, pressing his fingertips against Ashe’s head. "Happy may be too strong a word," he confesses. 

Ashe doesn't reply, merely sighs softly at the feeling of the wound on his head closing. 

"Ashe," Lorenz says, brushing flecks of blood off of his head. "I wanted to say thank you. For inviting me back." 

"Oh, don't worry about it," Ashe says cheerfully. "I always wondered why you didn't come back." 

"Ashe,” Lorenz says, furrowing his brow as he gathers his words and his healing magic. “I was a right prick to you in school.” 

“I know,” says Ashe. “It feels like those kinds of things don’t matter anymore, though, now that we’re at war.” 

“Even still,” and Ashe is patched up enough that Lorenz really could move on, but he lingers, moving his hands to a slice across his brow, “I hope you will accept my apology. I know Lord Lonato was most likely more of a father to you than my own father is to me.” 

“It’s fine,” says Ashe. “Really, Lorenz. I just almost got stabbed multiple times. I promise your words from five years ago no longer have an effect on my psyche.” 

Lorenz frowns. “I suppose, if you say so.” 

Ashe laughs, but now, it isn’t as aggravating as it once was. “We’re all soldiers now, anyway, and if you haven’t noticed, I don’t exactly think your father is going to keep you as a Gloucester noble since you just joined the Kingdom Army.”

Lorenz winces. “Can we not talk about that bit?”

Ashe laughs. “Sure, Lorenz.” 

Lorenz sighs, giving Ashe one last pat on the shoulder before moving onto his other patients. 

\--

Lorenz doesn’t see Ashe again until they return to the Monastery, and not for some time after that. He spends the walk back swapping gossip with Annette and lamenting over how truly out of shape he is. 

The Professor doesn’t protest when they notice that he’s joined the promenade, only gives him a slow smile that consists more of a blink than anything, pulling Dimitri further to the front of the caravan in the same motion. 

He gets an odd sense of deja vu when he enters his old room at the Academy. Dust coats everything, the bed stripped bare of everything but its mattress. This is fine, he tells himself. He is not second guessing everything, he tells himself. 

He is not fine.

He is second guessing everything. 

He finds himself wandering through the courtyards, towards the dining hall. None of the night guards stop him, causing a strange mix of relief and worry to flood through him at the thought that either they already know he’s joined them, or that they’re so awful at their jobs that they haven’t registered a stranger on the grounds.

He isn’t surprised to see that the Greenhouse lights are still on; he knows Dedue often tended to them during his Academy days. What he is surprised to see, though, is Ashe. He’s sitting on that same bench, and with yet another pile of books at his side. 

It feels… significant somehow, and before Lorenz can stop himself, he’s walking through the large glass doors.

Ashe looks up at the creak of the door closing, a smile lighting up his face when he sees Lorenz. “Can’t sleep?” 

“It’s rather strange being back in the monastery,” Lorenz confesses. 

“It was for me, too, at first,” Ashe says sympathetically, clearing a spot off on the bench so Lorenz can sit. “I kind of feel like a student again, you know? Except this time mistakes can get you killed.” 

Lorenz nods, crossing his ankles as he sits. “I admit, I must get used to it again. I was only stationed at the Bridge for that one battle, and, well, here I am.” 

“I fought a little after everything that happened,” Ashe says, folding down the corner of his book and setting it aside. “I quit House Rowe after awhile and did some mercenary work.” 

Lorenz nods. “I mostly read up on military history.” 

To his surprise, Ashe laughs. 

“What?” says Lorenz, more confused than affronted. 

Ashe smiles, bright and open, and Lorenz looks away. “Nothing, Lorenz,” he pauses, then turns towards him, “You just sounded so… downtrodden about that. Not that that’s a bad thing.” 

“Downtrodden?” Lorenz raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Lorenz,” Ashe says, and when Lorenz looks back, he’s still smiling. “You don’t have to enjoy reading about military history, you know that?” 

“Oh, hush, I know that,” Lorenz says, looking down at his lap. 

“Do you?” Ashe asks. He waits for a beat, huffing. “You’re kind of a weird guy.” 

Lorenz scoffs, looking up. “You do not need to- Oh.” Ashe is grinning, cheek pink. “You’re teasing.” 

“I’m teasing,” Ashe confirms.

They sit in silence for a moment, and Lorenz can feel Ashe’s eyes on him even when he looks away. There’s something so unnerving about the way Ashe smiles at people, like he’s hiding both nothing and everything at once. It’s mischievous, and searching, and Lorenz hates to admit that he likes it very much. 

“Lorenz,” Ashe says, and Lorenz wonders if he’s imagining the slight hesitation in his voice. “May I tell you something?” 

Lorenz looks up. “Of course,” he invites, returning Ashe’s smile. “We’re at war, are we not? I must say I am quite proud that you trust me to harbor your secrets.”

Ashe chuckles lightly. “It’s not really a secret, but I’ll keep that in mind.” He pauses, taking a breath. “I just wanted to tell you that I think I really like the person you’ve become.” 

Lorenz smiles. It’s something that might have hurt his feelings, if he were the same person that he was five years ago. Now, though, it just makes him feel a strange mix of pride and shame, although the pride has slowly begun to outweigh the shame. 

“Thank you,” Lorenz says. “I quite like you, too, Ashe.” 

Somehow, he isn’t surprised when Ashe leans in. In fact, Lorenz’s heart pounds as Ashe cups his face in his hands and brings their lips together.

Ashe’s lips are rougher than he was expecting, chapped and split as he kisses him. Lorenz doesn’t move, too worried that if he does, the moment will be broken, and the memory of Ashe’s lips on his will fade forever. 

When Ashe pulls away, he’s smiling. “You’re blushing.” 

“I know,” Lorenz says, and swallows. 

Ashe lets go of Lorenz’s face, moving further back. “Do you want to see what I’m reading? I promise it’s way less boring than military history.” 

It’s quiet in the Greenhouse, and Ashe’s hair shines silver in the moonlight. Lorenz thinks he quite likes it here. 

“I do,” he says, and smiles. 

When he moves closer, Ashe smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter @bizzybee429


End file.
